


Mysterio's Curse

by witchway



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Fic, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: Mysterio can't really CURSE people.That's not how it works.Right?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Quentin Beck, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship, Tony Stark/Peter Parker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	1. Dream Lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [von_gelmini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/gifts).



> THIS IS NOT A STORY this is 3 weasels in a suit pretending to be a person. And by weasels I mean ficlets but enjoy.

In his dreams, Tony held him very close. “Slow down, slow down hot rod,” he would tease, pulling away from Peter’s desperate kiss, but smiling all the while. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long…for too long…longer than was legal…let me enjoy it now baby.”

He went slow. He didn’t push Peter to the bed, he climbed in first and gently guided Peter to lay next to him.

He ran his lips, his chin over Peter’s cheek and jawline, kissing, nuzzling, whispering his name. (And when he ran his beard over Peter's bare shoulder? He just _melted_...)

He took Peter’s hand in his and guided it to touch his chest, where the scars were, then finally lower. He moaned Peter’s name, eyes closed, and shuttered when Peter’s fingers were wrapped around his thick cock.

He pushed Peter’s knees apart gently, kissing the side of his face.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” Which was a ridiculous question, of course.

When he (finally!) worked his fingers inside, he watched Peter’s face closely.

He held Peter on the edge for so long, so very long. But when he began nuzzling his beard along Peter's shoulder, _that's_ when it happened. When Peter cried out, he held on tight, whispering “I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.”

As they moved together, no matter how far gone Tony looked, he would always stop to ask “Are you ok, does that feel good baby?” And Peter knew he was safe there, in Tony’s strong arms.

“Yes, come for me now, come for me sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ve got you baby, I won’t let go…” were the words whispered as Peter’s breath caught, as Peter came.

“Beautiful,” Tony breathed, holding Peter tight through the aftershocks, then loosening his arms and gently stroking the sweat-wet hair. “Everything about you is beautiful.” 

“You’re so fucking amazing, Tony.”

“Oh baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to touch you like this.”

“Me too, Tony, but I was too afraid….”

But Peter was only talking to himself.

And when it was over, Peter could only bury his head in the cold pillow, alone.


	2. But That Beard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Peter were a GOOD person, he would have broken up with Quentin already.
> 
> Here's the problem...there's something Peter wants a little bit more than to be a good person...

Quentin like to kiss. Like, a lot. Like, “What are we still in highschool can we get on with this please?” a lot. To the point where Peter was getting bored and mentally going over his homework list – that kind of ‘a lot.’

But … that beard.

When Quentin put three fingers on his jaw and kissed him slowly, Peter could turn his face just an inch to the side and close his eyes, and then, for just a moment, he could feel that beard graze across his chin, his neck, his collar bone. And for a few seconds he could reach out and hold onto those strong shoulders, feel that body move on top of his and imagine…

But then Quentin would say his name (damn he wished Quentin didn’t _talk_ so much!) and gently move Peter’s face back into position with gentle fingertips and they were right back to that too-gentle kissing again.

And how could Peter claim he didn’t like it? It left him achingly hard and now Quen thought it was his favorite thing.

Dammit.

That was a lot of the problem. Quentin was _sweet_. A little too sweet. As in ‘For godssake man we’re just having sex it’s no big deal’ sweet. And maybe just a _tad_ too clingy.

That was becoming the main problem with Quentin in bed – he was gentle and sweet and _hesitant. So_ hesitant that it just came across as nervous and no matter how many times they were on Quentin’s bed the man never seemed to feel at ease there. Being in bed with a nervous guy made Peter nervous too, and when Peter was nervous he couldn’t explain what he wanted, and that was getting a little old.

Especially because Peter … _**wanted**_ something.

Sort of a lot.

Feeling Quen’s beard scraping his thighs before he went down on Peter, well, that was everything. That was (truth be known) the _**entire reason**_ Peter was going to bed with Quentin Beck at all, and that was just sad. 

Sad, but true. 

Peter was willing to put up with just about anything if he could close his eyes and feel that beard teasing his thighs…

There was no two ways about it. He _really_ had to cut Quentin loose. (Among other things, Peter was horrified at how close he had come to calling out the wrong name in the dark!) More importantly Quen was getting… _ideas_ …about what he and Peter were to each other and Peter had no one to blame but himself. And he _was_ going to cut Quentin loose. Soon.

Just as soon as he convinced Quen to use that beard on the back of Peter’s thighs…


	3. Mysterio's Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll never get hard for him AGAIN Peter Parker. I swear."

The fight between Mysterio and Spider-Man was epic, all the papers said so.

Of course, the papers were taking pictures and witnesses descriptions from _below_.

A good thing - Peter wasn’t sure ANYONE wanted to hear what they were SAYING to each other up there above the streets of New York…

“You think he’s going to romance you and take you home and fuck you on his ludicrously expensive sheets? He’ll never touch you when he finds out what a slut you’ve been…”

“Excuse me? Have you MET Tony Stark? Pretty sure the man isn’t into _virgins_ , Quentin.”

“You’ll never get hard for him, Peter Pa…”

“ _Never_? TOO late Quen. Way too late…”

If Mysterio was trying to get a rise (as it were) out of his opponent it was having 

the opposite effect. Spider-Man, now aware that his erstwhile-lover was actually _jealous_ of Peter’s crush on Tony, continued to goad while Mysterio raged and ranted, until finally he had Peter by the neck and was shaking him like a ragdoll above the terrified crowds. “ **You’ll _never_ get hard for him _again_** Peter Parker. I swear. See how hot you can make that old man for you _then_ …”

He flung Peter into a building wall, causing structural damage and a slight headache. He rocketed away leaving Spider-Man annoyed and contemptuous.

(As if he even had a CHANCE with Tony. Seriously? Not only did Quentin turn out to be a villain he was also _crazy_.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was a few hours of panic among the Avengers when Ironman fell off the radar for an hour or so, but the forces were scrambled and he was quickly located, mostly due to Peter’s hacking abilities. Rather than be content to follow Tony’s suit as it zoomed toward his location Peter convinced FRIDAY to give up her information and the Avengers assembled on the spot - freeing Tony from Mysterio’s hideout where he had been briefly chained to a wall. Mysterio escaped with the Avengers in pursuit, leaving Peter behind to take Tony home. (They both insisted it was necessary, and no one was going to argue. Those two clearly needed to get a room anyway.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the helicopter ride back to the penthouse (Tony refused the hospital) Peter found himself tearing up. “This is my fault, Tony.” Tony argued, of course, argued and held him close. It was hard to hear each other in the copter, that’s why they couldn’t let go of each other, that’s why they had to keep holding, keep speaking with their faces so close together.

In the penthouse they sat together on the sofa and Peter tried to make Tony understand. That Quentin had been his lover, that it was his confession of his most treasured secrets (Quen _always_ seemed to be after Peter’s most treasured secrets, always claimed it was the ‘proof’ that he needed of Peter’s devotion) that led to Tony being kidnapped at all. It wasn’t easy, getting Tony to understand. 

But being in Tony’s arms? Being held securely against Tony’s shoulder while Tony stroked his hair and held him close? That made telling Tony the whole story easy. VERY easy. They wound up laying on the sofa together, holding each other, taking, both telling their stories, comparing notes. 

“He bragged about getting you into bed,” Tony whispered against his forehead, tangling gentle fingers into Peter’s curls. Stroking one thumb across Peter’s temple, somehow, made it easier to confess. His humiliation at being found out. His horror that _anyone_ had known. “I mean…I’m not…I was so _happy_ for you, that you found each other. I took credit for introducing you to him. He seemed good for you – smart, up-and-coming. But I’m sorry Peter I think…I think he seduced you to get back at me…”

“But how can you…can you be sure?” Peter asked, looking up at Tony and cupping his face. (He wasn’t sure if _any_ of this was real. Was he really here, in Tony’s penthouse, practically laying on top of the man on his huge couch, the man’s mouth inches from his own, confessing to _everything_?) “Which came first, you wanting me, or me wanting you? We were dating and he was always so jealous, so possessive. But I’m not sure he _knew_ …until I told him. He wanted me to confess my most secret fantasy, and I did. And it was you. And the next day he kidnapped you.”

“I laughed in his face,” Tony whispered, touching Peter’s cheek with gentle fingers. “He told me we’d never be together, that he had… _cursed_ us? Or something? And I laughed. I didn’t tell him why, but all I could _think_ of was ‘As if **THE** Peter Parker would waste a second on me…’”

Peter reached up to touch that mouth, that mouth that was so close to his own, that mouth that was saying so many impossible things.

But _getting_ up, rising from the couch without putting any weight on his hero’s already bruised-and-banged-up body, took both hands. So he rose, gently, gingerly pulling away from the pretzel they had created until he could bring his mouth to Tony’s. There he kissed him very gently. Kissed him until Tony kissed him back.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Getting naked together wasn’t easy. Multiple people had to contact and be contacted and assure and be assured and then there were multiple debriefings and strategy meetings scheduled until it was very late at night and Tony used FRIDAY to cut off the world. Relaxing in Tony’s arms, in Tony’s kiss, was like heaven.

Tony undressed him tenderly. And when he got to it, he took Peter’s flaccidity in stride.

“Are you nervous, baby?” he asked, grinning a little.

“ _Very_ ,” Peter lied, then turned his chest to the bed, looking up with what he hoped were innocent eyes. “Can we do it this way?”

“But I wanted to kiss you,” Tony whispered, pouting a little. even as he climbed aboard. “Oh, you can still kiss me,” Peter said, looking back with a grin. “I’m _very_ bendy.”

He came into the sheets – he didn’t even know you could _come_ without getting hard – but the proof was in the wetspot. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the shower when Tony got amorous (and on his knees) and Peter moaned in appreciation, then moaned again when he saw Little Peter remaining calm and collected. Tony made a joke about ‘tucking him in and kissing him goodnight.” They both laughed it off. It _was_ late, after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Peter fled the penthouse, despite Tony’s protests, to sleep in his own dormroom. He sank into his bed, lying to himself. It was nothing. He had just been tired, or just nervous, sure. That’s all it was. Quentin was pathetic, Quentin hadn’t actually _cursed_ him. There was no such thing as a _curse_. In the morning Peter woke up full of self-assurance.

SO much self-assurance, he decided to send a pic to Tony, who responded enthusiastically. 

“I want _that_ ,” he purred into the phone in a voice that made Peter melt with pleasure. “That is a thing of beauty. I want that in my shower, and then I want that in my bed. I want to feel that in my mouth. 

“When can I expect you?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Back in Tony’s bed, buried to the root in Tony’s mouth, Peter was far too distracted, distracted by dreams long held dear and dreams coming true, to really notice the problem. Tony noticed of course (he had a mouth-full after all) and pulled away, kissing his way up Peter’s body, taking him into a tender embrace before confronting him.

“Sometimes, baby, when you’ve been fantasizing about things too long, the real thing just doesn’t measure up…”

Manfully Peter looked into Tony’s face and said…

…”whu?

“Oh _God_ ,” Peter moaned when he looked down and saw the problem, covering his face with his hands and retreating to the edge of the bed.

It was an Alaskan King, which meant it took a while to get there.

On the way he processed what Tony had said. “Dear Lord Tony _**no**_ , is that what you think?? But _of course_ that’s what you…that’s what he _wants_ you to think, oh Tony…” Feet on the floor, head in his hands, Peter sat at the edge of his fantasy-turned-reality-lover’s bed and wondered if his spiderbite would give him the power to disappear. 

“Tony.. we …have to talk about Quentin.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“No. _**No**_. That’s not how it works, Peter. Beck is a manipulative bastard and a thief who made…inappropriate use of Stark Tech. He is not a _wizard_ , Dr. Strange is Wizard King and he will back me up on this. It’s not _magic_ , it’s just…he’s just in your head right now. You’re just worried about him because he’s still at large, but after the Avengers catch him…”

“Oh God do you really think I’m thinking about _him_ right now?” Peter shouted leaping to his feet, feeling absurd. He was pacing, naked, in Tony’s bedroom and shouting. He sat back down in defeat. 

“Except now I am. When I’m with you he’s the last thing I’m thinking about, and then I look down and it’s all I can…oh God this is exactly what he _wanted_ …”

“Then fuck him. We’re smarter than him, and if we can set our collective minds to it we can convince your subconscious to forget all about it, in about a year or so…”

“A year?! You…you think this will last for a year!?” Peter sputtered.

“No, baby, no. I mean after a _year’s-worth of sex_.

“Which we can probably fit into two months, if you think about it.

“We’re superheroes - right?”

Peter blinked, gaping. He gazed into Tony’s dark eyes, gazed down at that mouth just inches from his own. Gazed, and wondered. 

Was this a joke? A dream? A dream-come-true? 

“Did… you… just suggest … “

He swallowed hard.

Quentin’s curse might just be the best thing that ever happened to him.

“Did you suggest locking me in your penthouse…”

“FRIDAY will keep food delivered three times a day. We won’t even have to stop and cook.”

“…for a two-month sex-a-thon?”

“For medical purposes.”

“To cure me of my…medical issues…”

“Well they are very _specific_ medical issues. I mean it only affects you when you’re around me. We don’t _have_ to date…”

“ **NOPE** not an option - wait, we’re dating?! I mean **_YES_**. I’m in. Two month sex-a-thon…

“As an experiment”

“…and if THAT doesn’t work?”

“We’ll try something else,” Tony said with a sly wink. “But I think we should give it at least 6 months before we get the tech involved.”

“The … tech?! …oh Tony that would…be…inappropriate use of Stark Technology…”

“ ** _Oh_** sweet Petie, I think this is the _perfect_ use of Stark Technology.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not writing about their 2 month non-stop sex therapy. I'll just leave that for YOU to imagine. You're welcome.


End file.
